


Six Skeletons; a Single Servant

by Macchiato_Dreaming



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underpatch (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Master/Servant, Multi, Polyamory, Rewrite, oh my god they're all jerks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27413017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macchiato_Dreaming/pseuds/Macchiato_Dreaming
Summary: The Skeleton Household only has one worker in employment, also known as you. It’s a ton of work— a skele-ton, even— but you really, really need the money.Now, if only you could receive each paycheck unscathed...[A gender-neutral rewrite of the abandoned fic, "Six Skeletons, One Maid" by RaccoonSinQueen with slightly less spelling and grammar mistakes, because I'm picky like that.]
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Reader/Everyone, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	Six Skeletons; a Single Servant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RaccoonSinQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaccoonSinQueen/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Six Skeletons, One Maid](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7124200) by [RaccoonSinQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaccoonSinQueen/pseuds/RaccoonSinQueen). 



> Do I have to explain who's who? because if you're reading this, I feel like you're going to know who's who.

It was still dark when the most annoying alarm clock you could find came to life, screeching at the unholy hour of half-past four in the morning. With a sigh, you rolled over onto your back and fumbled with the clock until it finally stopped.

The fight to get up wasn't much of a fight, really, one you hadn't lost since... well. You haven't had a lazy morning in years, now.

Still, it did take a while to pull yourself out of bed. The mattress groaned under your shifting weight, old as it was, but it didn't suck you back down. Yawning, you look at your clock again.

_'Forty-three past. Fantastic.'_

You headed toward the small bathroom in the corner, with its peeling floral wallpaper and terrible water pressure. You weren't sure _why_ the water pressure was so bad, actually, since the rest of the taps around the house seemed fine. Maybe a clogged pipe, although you'd think that would have made itself known by now. 

Step, twist, shudder. Nothing like a cold shower to wake you up.

Toweling off, you reached for the cup and brush on the counter of the sink and made quick work of your teeth with one hand while the other worked at your hair. Then it was to the closet for your most used set of clothes: your working uniform. A bit worn after these past few months, but not too noticeably. It consisted of a white shirt and black slacks, followed by a beige apron with pockets over the whole thing. The shirt was your favorite part, thin and billowy with puffy sleeves that you kept rolled up as they didn't suit manual labor well.

It was both a pity and a blessing that the masters of the house didn't keep animal pets, or have hair to shed themselves. A blessing to your cleaning schedule and black pants, of course. A pity, since a cat or bunny or something might do wonders for your emotional state.

Thank fuck they didn't make you wear one of those maid outfits. Or rather, that the head of the house didn't. You suspected that a few of them would have rather liked to see you in one of those, but you still had some dignity left.

After putting on your uniform, you quickly swept the concrete floor of your room and made the bed. It was a drab room, honestly, with the only spot of color being the red display of the alarm, but it was free so you didn’t complain.

Speaking of the alarm clock, you turned your head to check. Five am; time to start breakfast.

The kitchen was above you, on the ground floor where there was much more space for all the fancy gadgets inside. You... didn't know what half of them were for, and of that half, there were some that you'd never even seen before your employment here. You never saw any of the masters using them, either, although three of them were self-proclaimed chefs.

Thoughts aside, you got to work in the kitchen. The morning was a busy time, and it wouldn’t be long before the first three masters were up. You tried to be quiet as you got out the pans and measuring tools for six different orders. Your masters weren’t cruel (save for two), but they sure did work you to the bone. 

Some of the orders were concerningly simple; others, a daunting task. Once you were relatively sure you had each order _exactly_ how their respective master liked it, you took the first platter in hand and headed upstairs.

The mansion you served in was huge. You might live in the basement, but that was just a small room next to the cellar that you didn’t really consider as part of the house. The distance between the kitchen to the upstairs bedrooms was fairly long, having to go through the large dining room, the foyer, and up a large case of stairs just to reach them.

After making the trek to the first of six, you knocked on the door in a specific pattern to identify yourself. One big knock, four small knocks, and two more big knocks. It had been a challenge at first, since you were also holding a platter of food and drinks, but nowadays it was simply routine.

The door swung open, and you were greeted with a bright grin.  “HUMAN! I WAS JUST WAITING FOR YOU!”

“Master Blue," you returned with a chuckle. "Looking energetic as always.” Nowhere in your contract did it say you couldn't pick favorites, so Blue was pretty high up there on your mental list. He wasn't the most thoughtful of monsters, not that you were close with enough to make a definitive judgment, but he had an optimism that you appreciated. You had been surprised to find out he was older than three of the other masters, though. 

“OF COURSE!” Blue stepped back, letting the drawn drapes and neatly made bed to come more fully into view, another one of the reasons you enjoyed serving him. He rushed over to sit at his star-themed desk, awaiting the food you had prepared for him. “I HAVE A VERY STRICT SCHEDULE OF WHEN I NEED TO GO TO SLEEP, SO I CAN GET THE MAXIMUM AMOUNT OF TIME FOR GROWING! SLEEP IS VERY VERY IMPORTANT, YOU KNOW.”

You smile. “Of course, Master Blue. It’s very astute of you to say so, not many value a strict sleep schedule as you do.”

He beamed as you set down his platter of food before you tucked a cloth into his collar. The first week had taught you that just setting it onto his lap was... not enough. “WELL, I TRY TO MAKE SURE I CAN BE PREPARED FOR ANYTHING. PREPARATION IS KEY, AFTER ALL!”

You hum to show that you're listening, before repeating his order aloud. “Star-shaped blueberry pancakes, drizzled in syrup with assorted fruits on the side, one cup of warm milk, and one cup of cranberry juice?”

Blue frowned. “I THOUGHT I ASKED FOR ASSORTED PASTRIES ON THE SIDE, NOT FRUIT?”

“Master Blue, it's not healthy to eat donuts every day.”

“BUT PASTRIES HAVE SUGAR! AND SUGAR IS CONVERTED TO ENERGY!”

“Guess what fruit has?”

Blue bowed his head and sighed. “…SUGAR.”

“Perceptive as always, Master Blue.”

“BUT-!”

“No buts.” You bend down to his level and wipe some syrup off of his face. “Enjoy your meal, Master Blue.”

He thanked you, already focused on his breakfast again, and you left to fetch the next one before speed-walking to the the second room of the second floor.

Unlike the first, this master didn’t greet you to the door, but that was more normal than not. “COME IN!” Papyrus called in what you would have described as a yell if one of the others hadn't bothered to pull you aside and explain their "accents", for lack of a better term. Upon opening the door, you noticed that he was hard at work setting up his action figures at just the right angles. The blinds were already drawn and the bed already made, bless him. The moment you stepped in, your master stood up as straight as a board. “HUMAN! DID YOU BRING THE WAFFLES?”

You smiled, something you did a lot around Papyrus and Blue. “And the syrup, the cream, the bananas, and the orange juice, sir. Are you not going to the gym today?”

Master Papyrus hopped to his desk, pushing the monitor slightly to the side despite there being plenty of space. He was already tying a napkin around his neck. “UNDYNE PLANS TO SPEND HER DAY OFF WITH THE GOOD DOCTOR ALPHYS, AND SHE DOESN'T LIKE IT WHEN I GO ALONE," he explained. "NEITHER DOES MY BROTHER, EVEN THOUGH I AM A FULLY GROWN SKELETON WHO CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF, NYEH HEH HEH!”

“Of course, Master Papyrus.”

As you made his bed, Papyrus ate and enthusiastically explained to you every event that happened in his dream last night, right down to what color socks he'd been wearing. For someone as tall as he was, Papyrus was endearingly dorky. 

“BUT WHILE THE FROGGIT WAS YELLING AT ME, I JUMPED INTO-!”

“Master Papyrus?”

Papyrus stopped and turned towards you. “OH, DO YOU HAVE TO GO?” You nodded and he huffed, “THEN I WILL JUST HAVE TO TELL YOU THE REST OF MY DREAM AFTER YOU’RE DONE!”

“Of course, Master.” Not like you didn't have chores to complete or anything, but he nodded, content with your answer.

The third platter of food was considerably more difficult to carry, considering the sheer amount of food on it. The resident of room number three didn't exactly eat a lot, but he did enjoy adding onto your workload. The joke was on him, though, since your breakfast was often everything that he left behind. Waste not, want not and all.

You closed your eyes, mentally preparing yourself for the third master. You... didn't completely hate him, but Black was a hard monster to like. 

“WHAT ARE YOU STANDING OUT THERE FOR? YOU’RE LATE.”

You sighed and let yourself in, making sure not to spill anything on the way. “Late, Master Black?” You asked, letting a hint of irritation into your voice. Needless to say, he was the most difficult to take care of.

Master Black growled at your tone, but continued anyway. “PRECISELY THREE MINUTES AND TWENTY SEVEN SECONDS LATE.” Yesterday you were too early, the day before you were too late, and on, and on, for every day you had been here. On one hand, you had grown used to it, and gave your "deepest apologies, Master Black".

On the other, you sometimes wanted to throw the entire platter at his smug face.

It was almost a pity that he was one of the four who contributed to your paycheck.

“YOU ARE FORGIVEN, AS ALWAYS. REPEAT MY ORDER.”

You set down the heavy platter. “Two pancakes, one with thirteen chocolate chips in it and one with seventeen, topped with one-point-seven ounces of chocolate syrup and three cherries, with the stem still connected. Four biscuits, one with beef-based gravy, one with chicken-based, one with flour-based, and one with pork-based gravy. An omelet slowly cooked with poblano peppers, kumato tomatoes, vidalia onions, portobello mushrooms, and no more than a pinch of pepper. Lastly, a cup of coffee, straight black.” You could confidently say that most of the time you spent cooking breakfast was for Black and his ridiculous orders, even though he only ever took one bite out of each thing.

Except the coffee, he always drank all of the coffee.

You could relate.

Master Black spent a good minutes inspecting the food, making sure it was exactly how he asked for it. Eventually, he noticed some imperfection, and smirked. “FOR SOME REASON, I SPECIFICALLY REMEMBER ASKING FOR CHIVE SHAVINGS ON MY OMELET. I DON’T SEE ANY.”

 _'Son of a-'_ You took a deep breath and turned his omelet over with his fork, revealing the chive shavings. “How could I ever forget,” you deadpanned. It had taken weeks, _weeks_ of practice to stop being caught off guard, and a phantom of your default reaction still remained.

He peered at the small tufts of green, then huffed. “I SUPPOSE YOUR PERFORMANCE HAS BEEN... NOT TERRIBLE.”

You knew it wasn't a concession; he didn't even try to hide his annoyance.

You took it as a compliment anyway.

“Thank you, Master.” You said as you turned to go draw his drapes, filling the dark room with light. You began to make your master’s bed, picking up the pillows strewn about across the floor. You knew for a fact that Black wasn’t a crazy sleeper, since you’ve seen him doze off once or twice, but you did know that he liked making a bigger mess so you would have to spend more time cleaning. Boy, were you mad when you found that out.

When you were finished, you turned back towards the other figure in the room. “Would that be all, Master Black.”

“MMMMM,” He pretended to think. “NO, I BELIEVE MY CLOSET NEEDS REORGANIZING.”

You bit back a sigh. “Master, I organized it yesterday.”

“YES, BUT THAT WAS YESTERDAY, AND YOU DID IT BY COLOR. TODAY I WANT IT DONE ALPHABETICALLY, BY BRAND.” He grinned.

Did he know that you hated doing it by brand? Probably. Gacci? Shannel? Louis Buitton? What was the point of buying clothing that was so ridiculously expensive? “My deepest apologies, master, but I still have to wake the others.”

Black seemed annoyed by this, and turned around to focus back on his food. “FINE. BUT WHEN YOU ARE FINISHED, YOU WILL COME BACK AND DO MY BIDDING.”

“Of course, Master.” _'Fuck your closet.'_

Content with your answer, he went back to his food and you left for the fourth platter. The fourth had, unfortunately, just as much food as the third. Unlike Black, the fourth master just liked eating. The problem was waking him up.

You knocked twice on the door. No response. You knocked louder. “Master Red?”

A deep, low groan came from from behind the door. You opened the door anyway.

Red’s room was even darker than Black’s, what with the blackout curtains. The moment the light from the hallway crept in, Red let out a low growl.

You rolled your eyes at his irritation and set the platter down on his desk. He was still in bed, the covers drawn over his head completely, so you threw the drapes back and let sunlight flood the room. Red let out a loud hiss before tumbling off his bed and away from the light, cursing all the while. “a fucking warning next time?!”

“My deepest apologies, Master Red.” 

Master Red snorted as he sat up. “yeah, right…” 

_'Well, when you’re a massive jackwagon, you get insincere apologies. That’s the way the world works.'_

"I've set your breakfast on your desk, Master.”

He purred at the title, and you fought down a batch of goosebumps. Once he sat down, you handed a set of silverware to him. “Four eggs sunnyside up, four eggs scrambled, six pieces of bacon and sausages each, four American biscuits with gravy on the side, and a bottle of mustard.”

“speaking music to my ears, doll.” He tore into his food without a second thought. You ignored the weird nicknames as per usual and began making his bed. It was just as messy Black’s was, but instead of strategically placing pillows across the floor, you suspected that Red really did sleep like a maniac.

Before you could make it out the door, something crashed into you, causing you to stumble. You glanced at the swivel chair he'd been sitting on just moments before, then at the perpetrator, grinning from atop his desk. “my _deepest apologies,_ sweetheart.”

 _'Oh, fuck you, too.'_ You were certain that Red and Black crawled up out of some dark abyss with the word 'asshole' painted all over their faces. You stood and brushed any debris off your slacks. “I’m afraid the others still need waking up. Have a good—” 

“awww, you don’t have to hang with those losers. i’m much more fun.” Red winked, licking a bit of gravy off his teeth. 

You stood your ground. “I’ll be sure to tell Master Black you said so when I see him next. After all, I’m sure he won’t mind missing breakfast?” Well, ignoring the fact that you already woke Black, but Red didn’t need to know that.

His face immediately fell. You didn’t know why he was always afraid of Black despite being the older of the two. You wonder if it had anything to do with their upbringing. “er, don’t tell him I said that, sweetheart. you can go now. don’t want to keep him waitin', y'know?”.

You smirked, “Of course, sir.”

Now that the hardest parts were over, you rushed back downstairs to get the next tray— or rather, the coaster of tea. Unlike the last two, this only consisted of one cup in the center of the tray. Of course, you had offered to make something more substantial in addition, but you had been refused.

You gave two soft knocks at the door before you heard a raspy, “come in.”

_'Oh, that can’t be good.'_

You opened the door to the sight of a silhouette sitting in a chair next to his window, blinds sloppily drawn. “Good morning, Master Orange,” you greeted knowingly. Orange was always one to sleep for ridiculously long periods of time, and to wake him would usually require physically dragging him out of bed and putting his morning tea directly into his hand. But every once in awhile, Master Orange would stay up the entire night. Nightmares? Regrets? Deep thoughts? You certainly didn't know, but whatever it was would take its toll by sunrise. He wasn't alone in this; you'd seen the still undisturbed master dozing with furrowed brows a few times, and once walked onto Red still reeling from the aftershock.

That had been an unpleasant experience for all parties. You'd ended up avoiding a couple of them for the rest of the week.

“heh, nice to see such a sweet expression in the morning.” Orange gave a grin, but it was an empty, cursory thing. Like the master of the household, a smile was his default expression, and you had to look at the eyes and body language to determine their moods if they didn't want to bother changing their mouth-shape.

You wondered how that worked- did they die smiling? But no, that shouldn't affect bone structure. You could see the bags underneath his eyesockets and debated whether you wanted to go down that rabbit hole before deciding that now was not the time. “Thank you, sir.” You took the mug of black tea with extra honey from the coaster and placed it into his waiting hands, using your own to steady his. After the shaking died down, you began shuffling through the pockets of the apron. He lifted his gaze to follow the motion, and you pulled out a packet of cigarettes.

You didn’t support smoking inside the house, but you always kept a few on hand in case these situations came up. You pulled out one and handed it to him, before getting out a lighter.

"you, uh. not getting one?" You shook your head. "ah. thanks then, hon'." He put the cigarette between his teeth as you lit it. “we're not tellin' my bro, right? He’d flip.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You opened the window so the smoke would have somewhere to go, then bent a little to be eye-level with the sitting figure. “Please take care of yourself, sir.”

Orange stared at you for a moment before he lowered his head and chuckled. “well, since you put it so nicely…”

You shrugged, and moved to head out when a boney hand caught your elbow. "hey."

“Sir?”

“i know you have to wake the others, but if you’re not busy…”

“Of course, sir.” He didn’t even have to finish his sentence. It wasn't a direct order, but you didn't mind putting off your chores for something like this.

He shot you a grateful look. "thanks.”

One tray left.

You gave two soft knocks, then paused to see if the snoring stopped. You snickered when it didn't, but kept your hand away from the doorknob. You knocked louder. “Master Sans?”

You heard a loud thump on the door and took that as permission. It was no longer surprising to be let in with a pen, or a crumpled ball of paper, or even the ridiculously sturdy, if useless, alarm clock. Today, you opened up to a pink slipper on the floor, and allowed yourself a laugh. You looked over to the bed at Sans still snoozing away. You laughed quietly again, before setting his food down and opening the drapes. He just groaned and shifted slightly, as opposed to Red's dramatics.

You poked at the lump, hoping that physical contact might be the key. “Master Sans, you need to get up.”

To no avail, your master just shifted again. This time, you grabbed the neck of his jacket, lifting his upper body slightly to give it a good shake. No response. You sighed. “Don’t make me get the water bucket; Master Papyrus said that I’m allowed to use that.”

Sans finally opened his sockets, white eyelights glowing faintly in the morning light. “ _water_ my other options, here?”

“Very funny, sir.” You walked over to his desk, setting up his food.

“no need to be so cold, bud. i’m _drowning_ in good jokes.”

“Did you sleep well last night, Master?”

“ 's well as i always do.” 

His reply was vague as always, too, but his last warning still haunted you and you didn't pry. Instead, you diverted your attention to the second easiest breakfast you made: a bowl of frosted cereal, two pieces of toast slathered with jam, and two packets of ketchup.

At least he didn't chug the thing straight out of a condiment bottle like Red, you supposed.

“Oh, that's right!" You reached into your apron and placed a banana into his hand.

Sans stared at it for a second, then gave you a blank look. 

“Master Papyrus’s orders, sir. And I’m also to ensure that you eat this one, instead of using it to... call... Master Papyrus.” You weren’t entirely sure how that worked, and you'd be damned if serving under a household of six monsters didn't get you a better answer than 'magic'.

Sometime. From someone who was not Sans, preferably.

“heheh, well i guess i find the fruit a- _peel_ -ing.”

You paused to consider the pun, then shook your head. "Nah, doesn't work. It's too close to 'appealing' for someone to think of 'appalling' off the bat."

He shrugged. "You got it, didn't you?"

"Fair," you admit, before beginning to make his bed. Once you finished, you stared Sans down until you were relatively sure he'd eaten the entire thing. 

Man, these skeletons were really high maintenance.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're curious, Swap!Pap took the longest to code.


End file.
